Love Me Again, Cowboy

My phone beeps, and I open the text. It’s JulieAnn.

JulieAnn: I fixed the problem and have a way to swing things in your direction.

Me: Great! What’s the plan?

JulieAnn: Wait for it . . .

Always with the dramatics. I shake my head.

JulieAnn: You’re officially in rehab.

So much for my perfect morning.

“Everything okay?” Dad asks, eyeing me.

I stand up and contemplate throwing my phone out the window but realize that wouldn’t fix anything. “Oh, just fine. I’m going to kill my publicist is all.”

“Just don’t get caught,” he says before returning to his paper.

“I’ve missed your words of wisdom, Dad,” I say and make my way to my room to call JulieAnn. The room has a full-size bed, a small dresser, and a writing desk with a computer on top in front of the large window. The colors are soft blues that Ala told me are supposed to be calming, but I’m not feeling very calm at the moment . . . only irritated at JulieAnn. Rehab? I’m paying the woman to help my image, not to taint it. I close the door, find her contact on my phone, and press the call button.

JulieAnn picks up on the third ring, which I know means that she was considering not answering at all. She was just texting me. Her phone is obviously right by her.

“Malia, darling,” she says, drawing out the words. “How’s Bissboo?”

“Bisbee,” I correct, pacing my room. “And you tell me. I’m in rehab? Exactly what sort of drug have I been abusing? Or am I here for cutting . . . or bulimia, perhaps?”

“Oh, darling. It doesn't matter. All that matters is America will be rooting for your complete recovery and will be putty in your hands by the time you’re back.”

“No. I don’t want my name getting smeared for something I didn’t do.”

“It might not seem like it, but it’s a good plan. Fans love this sort of thing. We get to play off the nation’s sympathy, and we’ll say that Trey is standing beside you through it all. People will eat up the love story. This is publicity at its best, darling. I mean, where else can a negative be a positive. I love this industry.”

“I don’t like it,” I say firmly.

“Oh, sweetie. You worry too much. Now no one will be looking for you, so long as you can keep those town folks from spilling about where you really are. This is a brilliant way to swing the Trey situation in our favor. And best of all, you’re still set to audition for the role. Trey loved the idea and said Harry would too because it’ll put your name in the headlines. I don’t have a set time and date yet for your audition, but after Harry sees your name everywhere, it won’t be much longer.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “It’s lying.”

“It’s playing a role, which is what you do for a living, I might remind you. I’m sure the fans know it’s all part of the Hollywood ruse, but they want to believe it. They love the drama, and they’ll want to root for you. Let them, dear. Anyway, it’s all set. I already leaked it to the press.”

My cheeks burn, and a headache is forming under my eyes. “JulieAnn, why didn’t you get my approval first?”

“I’m just doing my job, dear. Let me.”

I plop onto the bed, feeling defeated. “When will the headlines hit?” I need to know when to warn my family.

“They said they have a couple stories in front of yours but promised you’ll be on the cover when it breaks. Oh, and don’t forget that you have your first extreme adventuring lesson today—rock climbing. I already told the only company in the area everything you need to learn, and I made sure to pay them well enough that you’ll be the only client. I put all the details in your calendar. Ok, I have to go now. Kisses.” And with that she hangs up the phone, leaving me reeling.

At least I’ll have plenty of frustrated fuel to burn off during my lesson today.

I’m driving to the destination JulieAnn sent me. The dirt road is bumpy, and I’m hoping I don’t bottom out. I spot a black Jeep parked in front of some rocky outcroppings ahead. The Jeep has a decal on it that says Desert Extreme Adventuring. I don’t see my guide, but the back of the Jeep is opened away from me. He’s probably getting things from the trunk.

I park my car, climb out, and walk over to the Jeep. “Hello?” I call out. My guide comes out from behind the back of the Jeep, holding climbing gear. He looks up at me and his blue eyes widen with surprise.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.